Waking Up
by Jiyuu-Chan
Summary: Warning: Implied RenoRude. Angst, violence, substance abuse and all that good stuff. Some humor as well. Based around the Turks. Reno POV as well as Rude POV. Reviews are appreciated.
1. Waking up Chapter One

Cold. As I faded in and out of consciousness, that was the only thing I was aware of. A deep, penetrating cold. Drooping red hair fell in front of my eyes, and I tried to blow it off my face. The explusion of that one breath caused an uncontrollable coughing fit, and the red haze that filled my vision had nothing to do with my hair. The edges of the red faded to black, and I gratefully slipped into unconsciousness.

Flashback.

"Fuck!" I shouted. I heaved my EMR at the wall with all of my bodily strength and watched with seething satisfaction as the framed photo of all the Turks shattered and crashed to the floor. Throwing a kick at my desk and succeeding in overturning it, I proceeded to heave a stack of folders filled with confidential ShinRa information out the open apartment window. I stormed to the wall to pick up my EMR, with every intention of whipping it at something. I shouted and jerked back when I realized I'd picked up the electrified end, which was still on. I paused as I realized vaguely that the pain, for whatever reason, had calmed me. Studying my scorched palm, I tried to figure out what the deal was, and, failing miserably in doing so, cautiously reached forward and held my palm a few inches above the glowing tip of the EMR again. Sucking in a deep breath, I slammed my hand down.

I didn't think the sound that escaped me was human. The jolt that shot through me was the best and the worst feeling I had ever experienced. In those few seconds of contact, stinging, screaming agony shredded its way through my body, laced with a feeling of utter euphoria. With my eyes wheeling in my head, presence of mind finally came through and I yanked my hand back.

Lungs screaming for air, I staggered away and took a header onto my worn-down couch. In turn, the apartment took one slow, sick spin, and I rolled over onto my side and vomited over the edge of the sofa. My lungs shuddered as I concentrated on breathing. In, out. In, out. Squeezing my eyes closed, I realized that, despite my overwhelming nausea and dizziness, I felt… good. Easing my eyes open, I noted with mingled relief and disappointment that the dizziness was fading for the most part. Gripping the edge of the couch, I heaved himself up, but nearly shrieked in agony as the pain in my hand shot through me. I looked down at my hand in shock. It was completely annihilated. My palm, no longer simply swollen, was nearly melted, and scorched black. My fingers were a terrible red, and shone with the blisters of third-degree burns. I had always deplored such gory sights, and squealed like a girl during scary movies. For the sake of my ego, I decided before I hit the floor that it was only the electrocution that made me pass out.

End Flashback.

Light stabbed through my eyelids and seemed to penetrate my very brain. The cold was still there, coating my bones with ice as delicate as glass, numbing my joints with unabated frost. I faded out again for a moment, and then came back to myself with a jerk that had me keening like a wounded animal. My entire body was wracked in agony. Every layer of skin held its own layer of pain, every nerve in my body screaming with protest. I gently twitched my fingers, and felt the puddle of water they lay in skim over my skin. At least I could still feel my digits.

I lay there on the bathroom floor for a long theme, shuddering, wondering. My mind began to awaken, and I started to wonder what time it was. This is just fucking fantastic, I though to myself. Cautiously, I bent my knees, moved my limbs. When unconsciousness threatened again at the pain, I waited.

After what felt like 7 or 8 hours later, the agony had subsided enough for me to raise myself to my hands and knees. The first thing I managed was to crawl to the toilet and empty my stomach violently into the basin. I leaned my forehead against the cool porcelain and waited to be sure my stomach would hold. After a minute or so, I slitted open my eyes again. Bellying my way to the door, I hauled myself upright, almost collapsing at the explosion of pain. Staggering my way out into the living room, I noticed vaguely that I was entirely naked. I flopped on my naked ass in front of my medicine cabinet and popped 4 extra-strength painkillers. Immediate relief washed over me. I sat there for about 20 minutes while wave after wave of relief came, until finally, finally, there was no more pain. Unfortunately, the euphoria that usually came with the pain was gone too. Well, I could certainly fix that.

I yanked a bottle of Jameson's best out of the cupboard before I popped up, still wincing slightly at the stiffness of my limbs, and dove at the coffee machine. I slapped the machine, trying to make it hurry up as the precious black liquid, and the lifeblood of all Turks, dripped slowly and painfully into the glass pot. Knocking back a quarter of the bottle in my hand, I giggled girlishly as the alcohol tickled its way into my bloodstream. It occurred to me to get dressed, and as I turned around to face my full-wall window, over which I had apparently forgotten to close the blinds, I grinned like a demon as I noted the couple that was eating breakfast gawking at… well, gawking at me. I waved enthusiastically and all but danced into the bedroom. Yanking a suit off a hanger, I successfully managed to put my shirt on, albeit backwards, and get both my legs stuck in the same pant leg. Rearranging, I glanced at the mirror and thought I looked damn distinguished, if I did say so myself. I slid my goggles on, not failing to let go and smack myself in the face with them a few times before I successfully got them on my head.

Yanking the coffee out from under the brewer, I knocked back two mugs before I noticed the clock and the fact that I was late for work.

"Fuckshit!"

I stuffed some papers at random into my briefcase, along with my EMR and the bottle of Jameson's. Scrambling, or the closest thing to scrambling a very drunk person could manage, I took a header out the door and hoofed it to Shinra HQ as fast as my drunken stumbles would carry me.

I attempted to compose myself as I headed into ShinRa. I half walked, half tripped into the office I shared with Rude, and flopped down behind my desk. I glanced around, noting that Rude either wasn't in yet, or was off dealing with something that I would have likely been also dealing with, had I not been unconscious or intoxicated.

Opening my briefcase in order to make it look like I was doing something, I stared into the contents for a moment before exploding into hysterical laughter. Apparently I had forgotten to put a lid on my bottle of Jameson's in my haste to get to the office. My briefcase was now filled with the amber liquid and had official ShinRa business floating on the surface of it. Giggling uncontrollably, I pulled my EMR out gingerly and hoped the company would cover my weapon insurance.

I heard footsteps coming towards the office. It could have been a million people, but I knew. I slammed my still-swimming briefcase shut, vaulted my desk into a face plant, and slipped behind the door. A few seconds later, Rude arrived, carrying a soft drink. I watched from behind the door, and a drunken snort tried to tickled its way out through my nose. He looked around, noticing my briefcase, but a distinct lack of me. He turned around to look for the source of the snort, and at that moment, I flung myself out from behind the door and launched myself at him with all my strength.

The force of my leap sent us into a summersault in a tangle of arms and legs. When we stopped rolling, spitting out a stream of obscenities, he shoved me off and stood up. I beamed up at him from my upside-down position on the floor.

"Hey, buddy!"

"Why did I get stuck with such a moron partner? Why!" He addressed his question to the ceiling, which amused me. Then again, in my state, if he had kicked me in the head it probably would have amused me, but that's besides the point.

Rolling onto my stomach, I came face to face with Rude's spilled soft drink.  
"Hey, straws!" I exclaimed, and grabbed one.

Rude grabbed me by the back of my jacket and hauled me up with one hand.  
"Are you ok, dude?"

I swatted him away and stumbled enthusiastically to my desk. I popped open my briefcase, fished out the soggy papers, and stuck the straw into it. Sucking happily at my briefcase-bar, I didn't notice Tseng come in.

I heard Rude mutter a muffled "Oh, fuck," and peeped over the top of the briefcase. A strangled "Eep!" escaped me, and I ducked under the desk. The last thing I heard before the now-empty briefcase went flying, narrowly missing my head, was Tseng's shout of, "What do you mean, DRUNK!"


	2. Waking up Chapter Two

Kicks landed on the other side of the desk. Covering my head, I giggled. Straw still in my mouth, I sat up and whacked my head on the underside of the desk. Still giggling, I poked my head up from behind the desk.

"Hey, boss!" I grinned around the straw in my mouth, which was violently yanked out and thrown at me. Tseng paused, stunned, and stared at me, his rage temporarily quelled. It occurred to me that I probably look like shit, after electrocuting myself into unconsciousness and then proceeding to get royally wasted. His deadly-calm was dropped as he studied me. I just stared at him.

"Rude!" He said sharply. Rude stepped up beside him.

"Take Reno to the gym and deal with him. Then bring what's left of him to my office, immediately."

I gawked as Tseng walked out and Rude came around the desk.

"Deal with me? Deal with me!" I squealed as Rude walked up to me with a sigh and hauled me off the ground. I did what all Turks do when confronted; I threw a hissyfit. Kicking, flailing and biting, I tried to escape the iron grip Rude had me in, to no avail.

Rude just rolled his eyes and flipped me up and over his shoulder, pinning my arms to my sides. As he carried me unconcernedly down the hallway towards to the workout gym, I saw Elena walk out of her office to see the source of the commotion. 

"Elena, help! He's gonna deal with me!" I shouted. The blood rushed to my very drunk head, and dizziness swamped me. Elena looked at Rude questioningly, but he shot her a grin and a wink I couldn't see, and carried on down the hall. Elena smirked knowingly and sauntered back into her office.

I couldn't believe she abandoned me like that. Shock and alcohol kept me from yelling for help to everyone I saw until I realized we were in the locker room. Rude dumped me unceremoniously on the tile floor of a shower, and pulled out his infamous gloves.

Everybody knew what the gloves meant. Fear poked me in the ribs a few times, startling me out of the drunken stupor momentarily.

I tried to scramble away, but I did another face plant as Rude simply stepped on my retreating foot. I turned around, fully intending to spit a vicious curse at him, but simply gaped when he removed his shirt.

Rude tossed his sunglasses down on top of his discarded shirt and suit-jacket. I was still gaping. My eyes slid up from his belt, taking in the defined hipbones, the 6-pack adorning his flat stomach, his pecks and broad, strong shoulders. Tawny skin shone softly on muscular arms as he flexed, preparing to 'deal with me.'

Through the whiskey, I managed to think that I would at least die happily, looking at him as he stepped towards me. I nearly fainted as he leaned me against the wall and yanked my shirt off over my head. I couldn't even push out my customary, "What the fuck?"

Rude raised an eyebrow at my expression.  
"What's your problem?"

I stared, weaving slightly.  
What do I say to that, I wonder hazily.  
"Well, gee. You have a great body, and I'm having homoerotic feelings towards you at this particular moment,"? Or how about "Well, you're about to kill me, your best friend. Why would I be distraught?"

I gave up and sniffled drunkly as Rude grabbed me roughly by the shoulders. I waited for the neck-snap that would end it all –

and screamed like a little girl when Rude turned the faucet on full-cold and shoved me under the spray. The liquid ice hit me around the head and shoulders and shocked the fog of whiskey from my brain. I flailed around, gasping for air.

"You're drowning me, you fucking moron!" I shouted

Rude worked hard to keep the grin out of his voice.  
"Just one more minute."

When the torment stopped, Rude stepped back hastily in case of flying limbs. Grinning broadly, he surveyed me as he tossed me a towel.  
"You're a damn sorry sight, I have to say, but at least you can stand."

I stared at him, annoyed that the blissful cushion of whiskey had been washed away, confused at my obvious attraction when Rude removed his shirt, astonished that he didn't kill me as I had been expecting. 

Rude dried himself off , and glanced up at me.  
"Need help?"  
The light of mischief in his eyes, he walked over, grabbed my towel, and scrubbed my hair to hell with it.

I sputtered and swatted him away. Glancing into the mirror, I almost cried again. My hair was a disaster. A mess of wet, drooping red fell into my eyes. I felt like a redheaded Kadaj. Pushing my emotions out of my head for now, I eyed Rude as he shrugged into his shirts. I huffed, averted my eyes, and tried to repair the damage to my poor hair. Failing that, I got dressed and sauntered towards the door with Rude.

RUDE'S POV

While we walked down the hallway to Tseng's office, I could feel Reno's tension from a few feet away, which wasn't normal. Generally when he got chewed out, he just grinned and rolled his eyes. Obviously something was up with him, and he clearly though I was too stupid to notice; which surprisingly pissed me off. He was too drunk to realize that I could clearly see scorch marks and scars all over his chest and body.

He still hadn't fully regained dexterity in his hand since his EMR malfunctioned and shocked him, but unless he "accidentally" fell onto a livewire a few times a week, I figured that someone had been harassing him. We all knew something was up anyways. Reno being pale, Reno losing his sense of humor, Reno coming to work hung-over every day? Yea, right.

I stepped up to Tseng's door, rapped my fist on it. I heard a muffled, "It's open!" from inside, and shoved it open. I turned, realized that Reno was hanging back from the door. I rolled my eyes and yanked him bodily inside.

Tseng closed the folder that was in front of him and tossed it into a desk drawer. He looked Reno over once, then nodded at me. I walked to the door, closed it, and stood silently.

"Sit." He said abruptly to Reno. Reno sat uncomfortably, perching on the edge of his seat, as opposed to his usual slouch.

"Reno," Tseng began, with a baffling edge of concern in his voice. "You've been with us for a long time. I consider you a friend, as do everyone else you work with, minus certain members of Avalanche."

He paused as Reno shifted and looked down at his feet. I could sense what was going to happen, and I felt like someone has rammed me, hard, in the stomach. I tried to keep up a professional front as Tseng tried to explain.

"And, as a company, we just feel that.. we.. or, you.. Oh, hell."

Reno blinked and looked up at Tseng.

"Look, Reno. Let's cut the bullshit. You're messed up, do you get me? It's not that we're going in a different direction, or we're not in need of your services, but you've been voted unstable by none other than the President himself, and I have to say that I agree. Go home, Reno. Elena's packed up your things for you already. ShinRa… thanks you for your service."

Reno's brows came together, and for a moment he didn't do anything. Anyone who didn't know him as well as I did would have though it was carelessness in his eyes, but it was pain. He covered it well. He stood, snapped his gum, and grinned over at me.

"Hey, buddy, looks like I'm suddenly free for the evening. Let's get together later and toss a few back. Later, Tseng."

He strolled out, but paused by the door when Tseng spoke.

"Reno."

Reno glanced back over his shoulder to see Tseng studying him intently from behind his desk.

"I'm sorry."


	3. Waking up Chapter Three

RUDE'S POV

My professional calm was back in place by the time Reno left the building. I was composed and relaxed as I calmly walked to our – no, not anymore – my office.

And proceeded to overturn my desk with all violence I could manage. I didn't shout, didn't cry, didn't whine. I just continued annihilating any evidence that I had ever shared this office with anyone. Picking up Reno's ruined briefcase, still reeking of whiskey, I heaved it out the window and into the street, kicked over his chair, ripped the drawers from the desk and emptied them onto the floor. It wasn't that I was mad at him; I was mad for him. And, I supposed, for myself.

I picked up something that had fallen out of his desk drawer; a framed picture. I was about to whip it across the room, but then I realized that it was an old picture of us, from our first year at ShinRa. We stood together in front of the meteor monument. Reno had his head tilted back with laughter, his EMR slung casually over his shoulder as he used me as an armrest on the other side. I stood on his left, a rare, broad grin spreading across my face, my sunglasses resting on my head.

I looked at the picture – no, I looked into the picture. I lost myself as I remembered that day. It was winter, nearing the end of our first year as both Turks and best friends. Snow fell softly, icy feathers against my bald head, freezing the tips of Reno's spikes. I remember what we were laughing about. We had just watched Elena take a sliding dive across the slick sidewalk in an attempt to get her hands on Reno, after he had pelted her with a very accurate snowball.

Sorrow swelled in me, so hard, so deep, that it took my breath away when I realized that there would be no more memories like this one. Then it faded, and the fury was back. I pulled the picture roughly out of its frame, folded it once, and stuffed it into an inside pocket of my jacket. I then turned and whipped the frame as hard as I could.

Tseng ducked deftly under the projectile adornment and stepped into the room, calmly surveying a havoc I had wreaked on ShinRa property. I whirled around to face him, sure my eyes were burning holes through my shades as I glared at him. I was sure he was going to fire me as well, but I didn't care at that point.

We stood, facing each other, for a long moment. I considered decking him, and he knew it by the look on my face. His eyes flashed in silent, unflinching warning, and I lowered my fists. It was so rare for me to lose control like this, just as it was for him, and he knew the feeling. He stepped forward, bravely, and lay a firm but almost comforting hand on my shoulder. 

"Come with me, Rude."

I was exhausted. Emotionally, physically. Tseng and I had a long talk about Reno, but I was still pissed at him. He didn't fire me for annihilating my office, throwing a public tantrum, and almost taking his head off with an interior decoration. He knew what I was feeling and told me how things were, in no uncertain terms.

Flashback

Tseng walked behind his desk and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of a creative hiding place in his desk. He took out two short glasses and poured three fingers in each. He offered a glass to me, spoke when I took it.

"Rude, I understand what's going on with you right now, - and don't look at me like that, I know what I'm talking about, - and I don't blame you for being angry with me."

In the middle of knocking back my beverage, I surfaced and looked up.

"Reno is your best friend. I get that. He's been here a long time now, and so have you, and neither of you've ever been on a mission without the other. But you can't tell me you haven't noticed something very wrong with him."

I opened my mouth to speak, was grudgingly silent as Tseng raised a hand. I had just destroyed about 10,000 gil worth of furniture, after all. I thought it would be best not to push it.

"What are your theories on his injuries?"

I spoke slowly. "I thought someone might have been giving him a hard time, shoving him around with an EMR, you know? Trying to get ShinRa information, or whatever."

"Sir," I added, at Tseng's raised eyebrow.

He nodded and looked into his empty whiskey glass for a minute.  
"It's a thought, Rude, but I doubt it. Have you noticed his other self-destructive behavior lately? Slacking off, exploding, drinking himself stupid? There's only one person that can be responsible for this kind of thing."

I flexed, waiting for the name, waiting for the name of the person I would go and rip to pieces. And nearly fainted when Tseng told me who he thought it was.

"Holy shit, Tseng."  
I chugged the rest of my whiskey.  
"That's impossible. It's impossible. Why would he do that to himself?"

End Flashback

I kicked a garbage can and watched it crash into an alleyway with a satisfying, earsplitting crash. Tseng lost me my best friend and the best partner I had ever had, and then gave me a perfectly natural reaction and entirely reasonable excuse for it. Damnit.

I sighed; I missed the moron already. I didn't get the whole "self-injury" thing, I never really had. Call me simple, but I just didn't understand how being in pain could make you feel better. As I trudged my way to Reno's apartment, I decided to forget Tseng's theory. He was probably wrong anyways.

I was going to head upstairs, knock a few back with Reno and see if he was feeling any better. Maybe watch a movie, order a pizza, sit around and trash Avalanche for a while. The standard Reno-and-Rude closure to a shitty day.  
He'd get his job back once he got out of his rut. I convinced myself of that as I stepped into the elevator, jabbed the button for the 12th floor. As a result, I was feeling pretty good as I strolled up to Reno's door.

I rapped my gloved fist in the door a few times.

"Reno! Open up, moron, it's time to get smashed."

No sound came from inside. Not the usual blaring TV, pounding bass of music or the sounds of general destruction that accompanied Reno whenever he went. Uneasily, I listened again. Nothing. I rapped my fist on the door again, harder this time, shouted Reno's name again. Still nothing.

I tried the knob; it was locked. Fuck! I was worried now, thinking his abuser had gotten to him. I stood back, took a deep breath, and kicked the door open with all my strength.

The resounding bang sounded like a gunshot in the still, dark silence of Reno's apartment, and I closed the door behind me quietly. Engulfed in the darkness, I heaved a sigh of relief. He was sleeping, that was all. That must be it. I walked towards the bedroom quietly, fully intending to shout and wake him up, as revenge for the days earlier flyingtackle. A diabolical grin faded from my face as I noted the empty bed.

I quickly walked towards the kitchen, found it empty. I checked the living room couch, the guest room, the closets. Yes, the closets. This is Reno we're talking about. You just never know with him.

Seriously concerned now, I stood in the middle of living room, making a mental checklist of the places I'd searched. I considered calling Elena to ask her to make rounds of the local bars, but she was probably still busy at work. I walked to the full-walled window, and noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

A cabinet, concealed behind a low-hanging poster, had been left open. Stomach churning, I walked towards it, noting that it was the standard medicine that almost every household had; Everything was there. Everything except painkillers.

I all but threw myself towards the liquor cabinet and found it empty. Empty! Reno was always well-stocked with alcohol, being Reno. Everything was silent except a low, metallic humming I had assumed was the air-conditioner or furnace. I listened, followed the sound to the rear of the apartment.

My head reeled. Light crept out from under the bathroom door, a beacon in the gloom. I stepped forward, listened. Nothing but the humming. I reached towards the doorknob, jerked back. I took a steadying breath, and then reached forward and cautiously pushed open the door. The sight that met my eyes slammed into me and my vision swam. I dropped my knees beside my friend and screamed for help.


	4. Waking up Chapter Four

Reno lay on his side, eyes half-closed, in a puddle of vomit and blood. His eyes were dull, glazed over with unconsciousness; or death.

The thought struck me like a sledgehammer. Still screaming for help, I rolled Reno over onto his back. There was a short crack in the side of his head where he must have hit the floor. I grabbed for a towel and pressed it to the wound. I couldn't breathe. Tears stung my eyes, bile tore at the back of my throat. Shaking took me over, wracking heaves took over my body.

I shook him, hard.

"Come on, Reno. Come back, come back to me!" I shouted at him. I shook him more, my chest heaving as I got no response. "Come on, buddy, wake up, wake up! Reno, for fuck's sake! Wake up!"

My vision was swimming again. I heard footsteps running towards the apartment. Lights came on, but I hardly noticed. Someone was shouting, someone was screaming for help, someone was begging for Reno to wake up; after a moment, I realized that it was me.

Cloud Strife, Vincent and Cid came tearing into the room at the same time. They stopped as if they'd hit a wall, staring down. I looked up at Vincent shouting at him to stop standing there, to help, to leave, to do something; Cradling Reno's head and torso in my arms and rocking.

I was deaf, I was mute. I couldn't speak or hear anything. I felt two pairs of strong arms grab my biceps and heave me roughly off the ground. Reno fell limply to the floor. I struggled, kicking, fighting, screaming. I wanted to go back, I needed to see Reno, he had to wake up, he had to come back now. I was thrown onto the bed, and I tried to get up. I was being slammed back down viciously by Cid.

Strife sat on the edge of the bed, holding my arms down and speaking comforting words. I saw his lips moving, but all I could hear was the echoes of my own screams, the steady drip, drip, drip of Reno's blood. Tseng, Rufus and Elena exploded through the door one followed by another.

Elena shot towards the bathroom, and I looked over in time to hear her scream and faint. She crumpled to the floor and into oblivion. Tseng carried her quickly to the couch, tipped her onto it, and ran, top speed, back to the bathroom. Everything was a blur, everything was silent but I could still feel it screaming in my head. Rufus was on his phone, his face hard as stone, shouting orders into it.

Tseng's face was crushed in with grief, guilt, pain. He pulled a syringe out of a case in his pocket, and stepped towards me. I thrashed will all my might, still screaming. My sunglasses went flying, and the last thing I heard before the stabbing pain in my shoulder, before everything went black, was the sound or sirens and my precious sunglasses striking the blood-soaked floor.  
THIRD PERSON POV

Rude breathed deeply, and sank into the chair behind his desk. He looked around the almost-empty office, taking in the boxes, the furniture being brought in after he'd destroyed it. He stood restlessly, walked softly across to the only piece of furniture that had been left untouched. A desk. Reno's desk. He ran his fingers over the smooth, cool surface, noting the scratches, and the patches of wear from the countless times muddy boots being swung onto them.

His throat ached as he opened the drawers and found them empty, and knew they would stay that way. He sat gingerly in Reno's chair, which had barely survived his explosion, and placed his own feet on the desk. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back as he was flooded with memories.

Elena padded softly into the room.

"Rude?"

He opened his eyes and looked over.

"Your things are ready to be moved now."

He studied her for moment. She was drawn, pale. He noted the shadows under her eyes, the gloss of grief in the irises of deep, stirring brown. Coming back to himself, he just nodded at her. She turned and left the room.

He stood, grazing his fingertips one more time over the chair, the desk, and headed for the door. He glanced back, just once, and then continued upstairs.

He arrived at Tseng's office, found him leaning against a large box as he had seen him lean countless times against his desk. Something that was not quite a smile tugged feebly at the corners of Tseng's mouth. They studied each other. Tseng looked as if he had aged. He looked more tired than Rude had ever seen him, and he noted a single, thin lock of silver-gray among the mane of flowing black.

He approached Rude, looking right into his eyes. He extended his hand, found it firmly gripped, and shook. 

"Congratulations," slid quietly out of Tseng's mouth.   
Rude nodded silently.  
"Sir." Tseng added, and made Rude's lips twitch.

Clapping Rude on the shoulder, he picked up the last of his boxes, and Tseng, the former-Turk leader, strode to the door. He didn't let himself look back.

Rude stood silently for a moment, alone. It had been 4 weeks since Reno… well, since Reno. The wound was fresh and raw, and he imagined it would be for a long, long time.

So much had happened in those four weeks. Tseng had resigned. He denied that it was out of guilt, but Rude knew better. In turn, Rufus had come to personally inform Rude that he was to take the place of Turk leader.

Rude had wandered in a fog, watching as his things were packed up and shipped to Tseng's office. No, Tseng's former office. The effect that one night had left on the ShinRa company was earth-shattering. Not a single smile was seen. There were no sounds of happiness, hardly any signs of life. Deep red armbands adorned the biceps of every Turk and even the members of Avalanche. They had all agreed that Reno wouldn't have wanted black. Lost in himself, Rude sat on the floor and leaned against the cardboard box that held Reno's things.

He heard a soft knock, and looked up to see Vincent Valentine holding out a gold-taloned hand to him. Rude studied him a moment, and then took the hand and was pulled to his feet. He noted the other members of Avalanche at the door of his office, nodded to Cloud and Cid.

"It's time." Vincent said softly.

They arrived in the auditorium as the rest of the company filed past them. Rude felt many hands touch his back or shoulders as they walked past, murmurs of solace or sorrow. Seating himself in the front row, he gazed at the memorial. Hundreds of pictures of Reno lined the podium. Reno fighting, Reno laughing, Reno sleeping. Thousands of flowers were strewn at the feet of these photographs. Rude noticed a particularly beautiful bouquet of gold and white flowers lay directly in front of his seat. He turned to Cloud Strife and nodded in thanks, his throat too tight to speak.

Rude studied the photographs, as one by one, friends of Reno stood behind the podium and spoke. Spoke of his life, his manner, his jokes. It all seemed soft and vague to Rude. Nobody who spoke had ever truly known him. At last, as Rufus ShinRa stepped down, his usual white outfit a deep shade of charcoal gray, the company stood and filed out. The auditorium filled with murmurs, the scrape of chairs and the occasional sob.

He stood with the rest of Avalanche, but stayed behind when they headed to the door. Vincent looked back questioningly, but Rude only shook his head. Inclining his head, Vincent ushered the others out, leaving Rude entirely alone in the massive auditorium.

He walked heavily to the podium, and addressed the empty seats with four simple, crushed words.  
"I miss you, buddy."  
Tears finally came as he stepped back and reached inside his jacket. He pulled out the photo of himself and Reno that day in winter and studied it.

He heard a snap of gum from the doorway, and looked over.

And there stood Reno. He grinned over at Rude, the white light spilling forward at his back silhouetting his lanky figure. Rude heard his voice echoing around the stadium as he spoke. "I miss you too, man."

Rude tried to smile, but could only manage a nod. Reno, still grinning, nodded back silently. Rude watched as he waved, turned, and faded gradually away into the blinding light.

He stood for another moment, and then the first true smile in almost a month broke through on his face. Folding the photo back up, he slid it carefully into the pocket next to his heart, and left the auditorium. This time he didn't look back.


End file.
